


Tables Turn

by endemictoearth



Category: My Mad Fat Diary
Genre: Based on a Tumblr Post, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-21
Updated: 2015-05-21
Packaged: 2018-04-08 08:24:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4297596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/endemictoearth/pseuds/endemictoearth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Fair warning: This is a failed experiment in style, based on nemo-miracle-grow’s prompt from the other week. And I’m posting it because I said I would, and because I need to get some of these ideas out of my system.</p><p>I was trying to be concise, to not overwrite, yet still explain the situation, but it ended up being long (almost 5000 words). I feel like I’ve left out all the parts people actually want to read, but it was a bit of fun putting the puzzle together. </p><p>Additional warning: this story relies heavily on what we already know of the characters, and anyone who reads it’s imagination. It’s probably lazy writing on my part, but fuck it.</p><p>I’ve also got some weird tenses happening, but I think they might actually work? Maybe? I don’t know; It feels very insular and teasing. And these are sort of cipher versions of Finn and Rae. Anyway.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Tables Turn

**Author's Note:**

> Fair warning: This is a failed experiment in style, based on nemo-miracle-grow’s prompt from the other week. And I’m posting it because I said I would, and because I need to get some of these ideas out of my system.
> 
> I was trying to be concise, to not overwrite, yet still explain the situation, but it ended up being long (almost 5000 words). I feel like I’ve left out all the parts people actually want to read, but it was a bit of fun putting the puzzle together. 
> 
> Additional warning: this story relies heavily on what we already know of the characters, and anyone who reads it’s imagination. It’s probably lazy writing on my part, but fuck it.
> 
> I’ve also got some weird tenses happening, but I think they might actually work? Maybe? I don’t know; It feels very insular and teasing. And these are sort of cipher versions of Finn and Rae. Anyway.

**Day 1 - Tuesday**

He needs to sleep, so he orders a decaf latte to go. Waiting in the line to pick up his drink, he glances around the cafe. At a small table, near the door, he sees her. Folded against the wall, head jammed into her wadded-up jacket, eyes closed in an attempt to catch a nap.

“Flint?” the barista asks in a flat tone. He tears his gaze away, turns quickly, rolling his eyes. How could you get ‘Finn’ wrong? Picking up his to-go cup, he pauses at the door before shaking his head and walking out.

* * * * *

**Day 3 - Thursday**

She was there again today, in the same uncomfortable-looking position as before. He settles back against his pillow, then turns on his side, sighing. He closes his eyes, feeling the tiredness bubble up from inside and wash over his bones. He eventually drifts off, but the last image in his head is her face, a tangle of hair across it.

* * * * *

**Day 4 - Friday**

Doesn’t the cafe owner mind? He thinks about whether he’d get annoyed with a girl coming to sleep in his store every day. Probably would depend on the girl. He pays for his tea and stops to doctor it with cream and a little sugar. Has to admire her ability to fall asleep amid the hubbub and in spite of the whistling milk steamer. He tries an experimental cough as he passes by her table, but she does not rouse.

* * * * *

**Day 7 - Tuesday**

He’s had a couple days off. Sunday and Monday; traditional in the restaurant trade. Lunches have been getting more popular, he notes. The Garden Grove has always had a busy dinner trade, but now they get a steady crowd mid-day, as well.

She’s never been late, for either part of her split shift. She’s kind and courteous to the customers; he often sees her sharing a laugh with a table as they place their order. But they rarely speak to each other. She seems no-nonsense, and he’s got the whole kitchen to hold together.

So, they shuffle along, in the same orbit, never colliding.

* * * * *

**Day 8 - Wednesday**

She’s not there this afternoon. He walks up one side of the block and down the other, but it’s gotten chilly out. It’s October, and he can’t imagine she’d try sleeping outdoors.

He heads home for a fitful nap, then returns to the restaurant early and flips through the filing cabinet with her application in it.

 _Ah, so that’s it_ , he thinks.

* * * * *

At precisely 5:00 PM she hurries through the door, dragging her knit cap off her head and running her fingers through her long dark hair.  She speaks.

“Sorry I’m late, Finn.”

“No worries. You’re bang on time, actually.”

“That’s late for me.”

“Well …” He’s not sure what to say at that. “ … don’t let it happen again?”

She smiles at that. He can only remember a handful of times her smile was directed his way. His shoulders drop in relief.

* * * * *

**Day 9 - Thursday**

It’s late. The restaurant’s been closed for about 45 minutes, but a table is lingering. Finn hates to kick people out, especially when they’re on a date and enjoying themselves, but it’s Rae’s table and she’s fidgeting in the corner of the room, eyes shooting daggers at the happy couple. He knows why, and pops out of the kitchen to let her leave.

“I’ll finish up here,” he offers. “You head home.”

Rae starts, but can’t keep the gratitude out of her eyes. “You sure?”

“Absolutely. Have a nice night.”

She dashes into the back, and returns not thirty seconds later.

“Thanks, Finn! I owe you!” She forgets the door was locked for a minute, and struggles with the deadbolt, but when she’s freed herself, she flashes him a smile over her shoulder.

“Not at all,” he whispers after the door shuts.

* * * * *

**Day 10 - Friday**

Rae makes up for her ‘lateness’ by arriving fifteen minutes earlier than her usual fifteen minutes early. It’s just gone 10:30 and Finn’s going over an invoice when she comes in. He shakes his head.

* * * * *

Two hours later, at the height of lunch rush, Rae bursts through the swinging door to the kitchen. Usually she’s all calm quiet and control, so Finn and the three cooks look up in surprise.

Finn catches the glint of a tear in her eye and his heart lurches in his chest. Why is she crying?

She sniffs and shakes her head. “I’m fine, sorry.” She smirks and says. “You must be choppin’ onions; I could get a whiff of them in the dinin’ room!”  

Finn puffs out a weak laugh in response, understanding that she doesn’t want to make a deal of it. She picks up a plate of pasta with her left hand and gives a quick swipe to her eye with her right before grabbing the other entree for table 9.

When Finn moves to the porthole window in the door to peer out into the dining room, he glances to see Eric and Ian on either side of him, watching the scene with him. A leering city boy murmurs something to her as she places his plate in front of him, and Finn stiffens, wanting to shove the prick’s face into that plate. Instead he scoffs and says, “Okay, back to work.”

* * * * *

At 2:30, Rae is putting her coat on and wrapping her scarf around her neck. Finn steps out of the tiny office where he pays the bills to venture a small, “Y’alright?”

She turns, surprised but not startled, and nods. “Yeah, absolutely.”

He wants to ask her about what that twat said, but another questions comes out instead, “You headed home for a bit?” He knows she can’t be, not if she wants to make it back in time. He’s dancing around another proposition.

She shakes her head. “Nah, too far. I usually just grab a coffee, read my book. Don’t worry, I’ll be back for the dinner shift.”

“Oh, I’m not worried. Just … anyway.” He reaches up and grips the top of the door frame, leaning forward a bit, before dropping his hand at his side and exhaling, “See you about five, then,” as he turns to go back in the office.

“Yeah … see ya …” Rae’s voice trails off, and he thinks she must have gone.

* * * * *

He normally goes to his flat for a quick kip, but he can’t get his brain to turn off. But he can’t focus, either, so he decides to go for coffee. The closest place is at the end of the street, same place he’s seen Rae trying to nap.

The line moves slowly toward the front, and when he makes it to the counter, he mumbles his order distractedly. He’s rewarded with a “Flynn” scrawled on his cup. Closer, but still no cigar.

Picking up his drink with a rueful shake of the head, he turns to head back to the restaurant. Rae’s sitting in her normal spot, awake and alert, newspaper open to the crossword in front of her. But she’s looking at him.

“Oh, hey,” he says, trying to sound nonchalant.

“Hey, yourself.” She smiles and gestures to the seat across from her. “Care to?”

He shrugs and nods and scrapes the chair back to sit opposite her.

They sit in silence for a moment. Then Finn says, “Oh, I nearly forgot!” and pulls a twenty-pound note out of his pocket, handing it across the table.

Rae’s eyebrows knit themselves together in confusion.

“Your tip. From last night. The table that stayed late?”

“Oh, right! I mean, thanks. Twenty pounds, really?” She reaches for it, but stops herself. “You could keep it. I mean, you finished serving the table.”

Finn rolls his eyes. “Don’t be daft. I took their signed bill and turned off the lights.”

“Hmmmm, well. If you’re sure.” She pockets the twenty and tries to suppress a smile. Which turns into her trying to suppress a yawn. “Oh, sorry!” she apologizes.

Finn shakes his head.

“I usually try and nap on my break, but my brain was a little too buzzy today.”

“Oh yeah?” Finn wonders if it has anything to do with that arsehole from earlier. Then, he has a sly thought. Playing dumb, he asks, “Where do you sleep? Not here?”

Rae makes a sheepish face and shrugs. “Yeah. I always buy something, and this is a slow time of day. They seem to look the other way.”

“Oh, well, I mean …” Finn starts, but stops himself to think properly for a second. Should he? “This might be, um … but … my flat is just across the street. I almost always grab some sleep there.” He bites the inside of his cheek. “I mean, this probably sounds weird, but … if you need a more comfortable spot … I’ve got a sofa. I’ll be asleep in the other room, and my roommate has a real job, so he’s never about during the day.”

Rae’s eyes widen at the word ‘sofa’ and then dart around the table, landing on the crossword, as he finishes his clunky proposition. “Ummm …” she hems. “Ahhhh …” she haws. “Well … yeah, maybe!”

Finn looks up in amazed relief. He laughs weakly. “Anytime.”

* * * * *

**Day 14 - Tuesday**

She didn’t come over to sleep Saturday afternoon. But she did tell him that she had a couple of errands to run, which Finn thinks is progress. Like, she’d been thinking about it, and still wanted to reserve the option.

Then, they had their two days off, which he spent trying out new recipes, watching Man U on the telly, and for the first time in memory, attempting the Times cryptic crossword that someone from the lunch crowd on Saturday had left behind. It was an exercise in futility, and after an hour with only three clues filled in (and no confidence any were right), he threw down his pen and stood up.

He’s thinking over his solitary weekend when Rae bustles in, bundling her bag and coat into the middle cubby in the hall outside the office.

“Morning,” he says.

“Morning,” Rae replies. “How was your ‘what we call a weekend?’” she asks in a cheery tone.

“Oh, good. Uneventful.” He flattens his lips together for a second before asking, “Sorry, how was yours?”

“Naff. Had to work a double shift at my other job on Sunday, and take the little one to the doctor yesterday.”

Finn’s face must show his confusion, because Rae explains, “Younger sister. My mum had to work.”

For some unaccountable reason, he’s relieved, but covers it with, “I didn’t know you had another job.”  _Or a sister_ , he thinks.

“Local catering company. Closer to home, but you almost never get any tips. Here, the pay is better and usually some kindheart or American can be relied upon to drop a few more quid for the service, at least a few times a week.”

Finn nods as she dons her apron and pulls her hair into a sleek ponytail before rolling her sleeves to the elbow. “I’ll start the set-ups,” she says, disappearing into the dining room.

* * * * *

The lunch crowd clears out completely by 2:00, and Rae has the dining room looking shipshape by twenty-past. Finn sees her taking her time on the very last table, almost like she’d rushed to get finished, but now isn’t sure she should have. He picks up an extra vase of flowers and walks over to the table, swapping it for the vase already in place.

“Thought these looked a little wilted,” he explains. He doesn’t know whether to mention the offer again. Rae merely nods and fiddles with the cutlery for a moment. Then, he has a little brainwave. He yawns.

Ray looks up just in time to catch the tail end and yawns, too.

“Catching, aren’t they?” he laughs.

She squints a smile and nods, covering her mouth.

“I’m headed over to my flat …” He pauses for a second. “Offer still stands, y’know.”

Rae gives the fork one last adjustment and glances up at him through her long lashes. “Ummmmm, sure. Yeah. I could really use some kip. Let me just get my coat.”

Finn grins around the teeth biting the corner of his lip. It feels like he’s cleared a hurdle, or … something. No, more like he’s turned the key in a lock, but he had to make that key from scratch and hope that it worked.

He hasn’t even admitted to himself that he likes this girl. That he’s liked her since she walked through the door, looking all nervous and hopeful. That he barely notices the other wait staff, unless they cock something up. That now that she’ll be in his apartment, ten feet away, he feels like his heart is being squeezed in a vise.

_Oh, fuck._

* * * * *

**Day 15 - Wednesday**

All was well. All went well. Nothing weird happened. They were okay.

Well, Finn hadn’t actually slept a wink for straining to listen for her moving in the other room. She didn’t make any sounds, no snoring or even heavy breathing. He’d actually gotten worried she’d stopped breathing at one point, and gotten up to put a record on just so he wouldn’t go mad. When his alarm went off at 4:30, he made as if he’d rested and came out to find her rubbing her eye, so he assumed she slept.

And they’d walked back to the restaurant together, not saying anything to one another. He didn’t know what to make of it. But things seemed fine, so he wasn’t going question it. Or her.

* * * * *

After lunch, Rae isn’t dithering like yesterday. She finishes setting the tables for dinner and goes to grab her coat, then stands outside the office. Finn looks up, and the vise in his chest loosens a little. “Ready?” he asks, and she gives him a combo nod-shrug.

“Okay, let’s go,” he says.

* * * * *

**Day 18 - Saturday**

She’s spent every afternoon this week at his. On the sofa just outside his room. He’s buzzing, partly from the lack of sleep (every album he uses to drown out her silent sleep reminds him of her), but mostly from the realization that he likes her so much, has for longer than he’s been aware, and she’s in his space, and even though he didn’t think any of this through and can’t conceive of how they’ll ever get together … For now, it’s something, and it’s enough.

* * * * *

After lunch, he comes around the corner to the kitchen. Rae’s on her phone, and he catches a snippet of her side of the conversation.

“No, I don’t think he does.

Really!

I know, it’s unbelievable. Like, truly … mind-boggling.

Well, of course it won’t last.

Because I do, that’s how. And you know I need the—

Yeah.

Well, anyway …

Yeah, I think so. I mean, I hope so …

Yeah, yeah, I’ll call you later.

Bye, Chlo.”

He’d frozen when he heard her voice, and now realizes he’s been stood stock still, quite obviously eavesdropping. His mind was too busy trying to decode her cryptic responses, he hasn’t thought how this will look. She starts to turn to put her phone back in her bag and he looks around, grabbing an apron off the wall, only to pointedly hang it back on the hook as she finally glances up.

“Oh, Finn! I didn’t see you there!” She starts, putting her hand over her heart.

“Sorry, just …” he gestures to the apron lamely and looks down, feeling caught out.

He turns to get his jacket and Rae does the same. They shuffle into them in tandem. Today, Rae is wearing a worn leather number he doesn’t remember seeing before. It looks almost as old as his, with several band pins on the collar. Oasis. The Stone Roses lemon. Pulp. He knows she’s got good musical taste, from the songs he’s heard her humming as she helps set up or clear. “Nice jacket,” he murmurs.

“Yours, too,” she says. “It was actually seeing yours that reminded me of this one. Thought I’d drag it out into the light of day.”

He smiles.  _Huh_ , he thinks. “Shall we?” is what he says.

She bobs her her head once in the affirmative and they head out.

And halfway up the stairs to his second floor flat, Finn remembers.

It’s Saturday.

Stuart.

_Fuck._

_FUCK._

He stops, putting a hand out on her forearm. She looks down at it, confused, then back up.

“I-I forgot,” he stammers. “Shit. Ummm, okay. My roommate. He doesn’t work Saturdays. So …”

“Oh! Oh, I can go to the café, then,” Rae offers quickly, starting to turn to go back down the stairs.

“No!” he doesn’t have time to filter his brain. “I mean … you don’t have to. I can … I mean, you can use my bed and I’ll … I’ll figure something out.”

Rae’s eyes get wide and she swallows. Her body is ready to flee, but she’s looking back at him, considering. Her eyes narrow briefly and she slowly turns around. “Are you sure?” she asks, innocently. Actual innocence, like she really doesn’t know.

 _She probably doesn’t know_ , he thinks.  _Why should she?_

“Yeah, I’m sure,” he says, no stammering about it.

She squares her shoulders, like she’s steeling herself. Then she follows him up, just like she has every day this week, and also completely unlike those other times.

Finn unlocks the door, pushing to hold it open for her. She hesitates for a second, then crosses the threshold, but stops just inside, waiting for Finn to come inside and lead the way.

Stuart is there, camped out on the sofa, headset on, controller in hand. He silently clamps his jaw in concentration, then erupts with “Fuck you, Turner! I OWN YOUR ARSE NOW.”

Rae jumps and Finn sighs.

“Oh, sorry, mate. Didn’t see ya come in. I’ll keep it down for the next couple hours, yeah?” And then … “Oh, hel-LO, didn’t know you had company!”

Finn looks down, face reddening from equal parts anger and embarrassment. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Rae turn to leave, and he can’t really blame her.

“I should probably …” she mutters, hitching a thumb over her shoulder.

“Rae works with me,” Finn says, in a clear voice. “She lives far out, and needs a rest. I’ll kip on the chair out here, yeah?” He looks at her appealingly. “She’s going to take a nap in my room.”

Stuart shrugs, eyes glazing over again as he restarts his game.

“Only …” Finn opens the door, looking around to make sure it’s fit for her to see. He kicks a pair of boxers under the bed and straightens the duvet. “Um, I just changed my sheets a couple of days ago, but …”

Rae takes a tentative step into his room. “I’m sure it’s fine. I’ve definitely stayed the night in far dodgier places.” This statement gives him pause, but he’s not sure why.

“Okay, then. Sorry … my brain just … forgot.”

“Don’t worry about it, Finn. You’re being far nicer than you have to be. I’m the one imposing, yeah?”

“But only because I offered …”

“It’s fine.” Now she puts her hand on his forearm. “Really.” He glances up to see her considering his bed. “In fact …” she takes a deep breath. “This looks quite roomy. Enough room for two, even if one is me. If you don’t mind sharing, that is.” She pastes a smile on her face that Finn can only describe as adorable. His heart stops for a beat.

“Well, um …” he gestures behind him to indicate Stuart.

Rae rolls her eyes. “He seems like he’s too distracted to realize you’re in the same flat.” She sighs. “He also seems like he’d be friends with that twat from the other week.”

“What twat? That guy from lunch? Last … Friday?”

She looks at him, incredulous. “You remembered that? Yeah, he was just a prick.”

“What did he say?”

“Nothing really, just stuff about how … um …” Her eyes dart away as she mumbles, “… the best cuts of meat aren’t always on the menu.”

Finn can feel all the blood in his body pulse in anger. “What?!?” he shouts.

“Shhhhh, Finn!” Rae admonishes, looking toward the door before going over to shut it. “He was probably drunk.”

“What does that have to do with anything? And, drunk? At two in the afternoon?”

“You really don’t get out of the kitchen much, do you? That’s pretty standard for a Friday afternoon in financial.” She takes off her jacket and drapes it over the chair near the door. “And if we don’t get some sleep soon, we might as well not have bothered.” Slipping her shoes off, she pads to the bed. “Do you have a side you prefer?” she asks.

Finn shakes his head, dazed, as she slips under the duvet and shimmies toward the wall. He shucks off his jacket and kicks off his boots, joining her.

As he shifts into a comfortable position, he can’t believe it. She’s here, in his bed. With him in it, too.

He sighs, brain whirring away, wanting to time travel back to last week and punch that guy’s lights out.

“Sweet dreams,” Rae murmurs, interrupting his angry train of thought.

“Hmm? Oh, yeah. You, too.”

And today? He sleeps.

* * * * *

He didn’t think he’d be able to, since he’d barely gotten a snooze with her in the next room, but something about hearing her breath grow deep and even, maybe it was just her presence, helped him drift off in short order.

Stuart had cocked an eyebrow at them as they walked out, but Finn doesn’t think Rae saw.

Back at the restaurant, it was like the afternoon hadn’t happened—business as usual.

At the end of the night, Rae stops to say good night. “Have a nice ‘what we call a weekend’, Finn.” She smiles softly, and he can’t help but do the same.

“You, too, Rae! See you Tuesday.”

“Bright and early!” she responds over her shoulder.

He barks a laugh and she’s gone.

* * * * *

**Day 21 - Tuesday**

He realized a lot of things on Saturday, not least of which was that he hadn’t actually talked to anyone about Rae. Stuart was definitely out; he only wanted to talk about ‘boning top birds’ and certainly wouldn’t have appreciated Finn going on about how his pillow smelled like flowers after she left, and how he’d hugged it to his face when he got home that night, inhaling long and deep until thought his brain would burst.

He texted Archie Sunday.  **You around? Care to chat?**  Arch had called him back immediately, so rarely did Finn ask to talk. He explained the whole situation/dilemma to his oldest friend and then chewed on his thumbnail waiting for his verdict.

“She sounds great, Finn. Are you just worried because you work together?”

Finn considered a moment. “Well, that, and … I’m not sure she feels, well, anything … for me, I mean.”

He heard Archie tsk down the line. “Finn, she slept in the same bed as you.”

“Well, yeah. I mean … yeah. There is that.” He worried his bottom lip. “You really think?”

“I really think.”

* * * * *

Consequently, Finn is happily buzzing around the kitchen when Rae comes in.

“Ian called in sick,” he informs her, grin on his face.

“And you’re happy about this?”

“No, just … anyway. Tuesdays aren’t that busy, right?”

“Not usually, no.”

He chops some carrots into matchsticks as Rae puts on her apron. “How was your weekend?”

Rae seems to hold her breath for a moment before answering. “Long.”

“Yeah? Mine seemed long, too. Weird.” He deftly scoops the carrots with the knife blade into a container, grabbing for some onions and starts peeling.

“That is weird.” Tying her apron in back, the fabric tightens tantalizingly around her chest. “I don’t think I got enough sleep,” she ventures.

“Really?” Finn clears his throat. “Well … hopefully, you can … y’know … make up a couple of hours today,” he gestures with the knife in his hand.

She nods and turns to go back to the dining room. “Yeah, hopefully.”

* * * * *

Three orders were sent back to the kitchen, but Finn doesn’t mind.

“You alright?” Rae asks after she brought the third one back.

“Yeah … yeah. Must just be distracted. Maybe I didn’t get enough sleep, either.”

Rae nods and picks up one of the plates for table 12, carefully reading over her writing, clearly making sure the dishes are correct before delivering them. Satisfied, she hoists the other dish onto her tray and gives him a wink as she heads out.

Finn smiles at the space she just occupied for a long moment until Eric clears his throat and says, “Hey, boss? You might want to check those steaks aren’t getting overcooked.”

“Huh?” Finn snaps to attention. “Oh, yeah. Thanks.”

* * * * *

When they get to his flat, Finn sighs inwardly.  _She’s going to be back on the sofa today, isn’t she?_ He takes his time unlocking the door, drawing the time that he can be with her out.

Inside, he glances at the sofa. “Feel bad you have to go back to that,” he says softly. “After you’ve seen what sits on it all weekend, shouting abuse at teenagers through his headphones.”

Rae chuckles. “Yeah … it’s not quite as cozy as your bed. But a lot better than the wooden chair in the café!” She takes off her jacket and drapes it over the arm of the sofa, which looks lumpier and sadder than Finn ever remembers it being.

“Well, I mean …” he starts, looking down at his hands. “You could always …”

Rae blinks at him, not giving anything away.

“I just, we’ve already shared once …” He sighs. “If it’s more comfortable … you know?”

Rae finally gets it. “Oh! Um, you don’t have to … I’m fine … wherever.”

Finn smiles slyly. “Alright … if you really want to sleep on the sofa where my roommate eats six meals a weekend and creating a crater the size and dimension of his bony arse, I won’t stop you.” He waves a hand toward the brown corduroy affair and sees Rae’s mind turning over this information.

She takes a halting breath. “Actually, maybe …”

Finn’s smile dials up to a grin.

* * * * *

**Day 25 - Saturday**

Every day this week, Rae has slept in his bed, and he’s slept, too. She’d asked him on Tuesday if he could put on some music, and he’d held up his LP of  _The Bends_  with a inquisitive eyebrow. She’d nodded and he’d dropped the needle, adjusting the volume to an appropriate level.

On Wednesday, she’d done a quick flick through one of his crates, handing him  _Imperial Bedroom_  with a smirk.

Thursday, she’d pointed to him. “Your turn.” He’d chosen  _Coming Up_ , to which she’d nodded in satisfaction.

Friday, she picked  _So Tonight That I Might See_  from the back of a crate. He wondered how she’d known it was there.

* * * * *

Which brought them to today. Another Saturday, with the sour promise of Stuart on the couch in the other room. He’s never minded having a roommate until now. He sets his teeth in anticipation of a brush-off from Rae.

When she arrives, she seems subdued, even more than her first days of work.

“Everything alright?” he asks when she sweeps into the kitchen to hand over the first orders of the lunch rush.

“Yeah, fine,” she replies, distracted.

He gets all the orders right today, but burns himself twice and spills a mornay sauce all over his apron.

When 2:00 rolls around, he finds himself nervous. More nervous even than the day he offered his flat up as a place for her to sleep. He thinks,  _If she doesn’t come today … that’s a sign._  And not the one he’s looking for.

But what would it mean if she did come? He doesn’t like to think too hard about that; his heart can’t take it.

* * * * *

They walk up the stairs to his flat slowly. The climb feels very deliberate to Finn, and he’s dreading the smarmy smile on Stuart’s face. He doesn’t look over his shoulder at Rae, afraid to give anything away.

Their feet squeak on the steps; the door whines as it opens. Finn doesn’t discern the faint click of Stuart’s fingers on the controller; no epithets can be heard. He chances a look at Rae, eyebrows raised in surprise, and shrugs.

She seems to relax, and he feels his shoulders slowly unclench. They breathe a little easier and, for the first time, Rae is the one who leads the way, opening the door to his room, removing her jacket and scarf and shoes, perching on the edge of the bed. Her face looks at him expectantly, and his heart hammers in his chest dangerously before he realizes it’s his turn to choose the music.

He’d lain awake the night before thinking about what would answer Rae’s Mazzy Star move. There was certainly a dialogue going back and forth with the albums they were choosing (not to mention the songs contained therein).

Pivoting slowly, he faces the crate next to his self-turning turntable. He doesn’t show her the album cover, just slips the first album on and kicks off his shoes. 

As he settles himself next to her, the first song starts. Rae asks, “Wait, what’s this?”

“Van Morrison’s live album.” A beat passes. “It’s Too Late to Stop Now.”

Several beats pass.

“I wouldn’t have thought this was conducive to sleeping.”

He breathes as evenly as his lungs will let him and turns on his side to face her. “No, I guess it’s not.”

“Aren’t you tired?” she whispers.

His hand reaches out, forefinger tracing her cheek. “I’m exhausted,” he sighs.

Her arm crooks to bring her hand up to wrap around his. “Me too.”

**Author's Note:**

> FYI, this is the soundtrack to this afternoon: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qprDJgCQsTY
> 
> “Ain’t Nothin’ You Can Do”
> 
> “Warm Love”
> 
> “Into the Mystic”
> 
> “These Dreams of You”
> 
> “I Believe to My Soul”
> 
> “I’ve Been Working”
> 
> “Help Me”
> 
> “Wild Children”
> 
> “Domino”
> 
> “I Just Want to Make Love to You”


End file.
